


Bull's Eye

by Lamachine



Series: The Wheels of Chance [3]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen, season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamachine/pseuds/Lamachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"An arrow doesn't cry. It doesn't grieve. It doesn't wander the realms of this world in search of purpose; it rushes through time and space and doesn't stop until it reaches its target."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bull's Eye

You are an arrow.

 

An arrow doesn't cry. It doesn't grieve. It doesn't wander the realms of this world in search of purpose; it rushes through time and space and doesn't stop until it reaches its target.

 

An arrow cannot be blinded by possibilities, like you were when you climbed out of the Bronzer, stuck in a body not a day older than you were when you stepped in, shadowed by a century of solitude looming in your every gesture. A hundred years pulling at your skin, slowly disfiguring every inch of you, decades patiently alienating your clothes, manners and speech until forever distorted.

 

Every place you called home, every human chosen as family, they slipped from you gradually, grotesquely altered to the point of unrecognizable. The twentieth century grew around you like a sick mold to an old tree, draining your hopes and dreams while you remained perfectly still. A fixed point as the Earth circled the sun a hundred times, immovable despite the impossible lengths to which you traveled.

 

In the end, really, even Time itself couldn’t slow you down.

 

An arrow is a weapon and therefore, it appears much more truthful than you are; you who would pose as human, who performs her daily tasks as if it mattered. There is a lie underneath every one of your words and movements and it would choke you up if you were breathing – but a dart doesn’t breathe; it is expulsed into the world and disappears in a flash, only to reappear in a bull’s eye. You are gone now: God forbid you would return soon.

 

These people that welcome you into their home, these human beings who would trust you with their beating hearts, how could you ever make them understand that there is no blood on your hands? No sin in your choices; to equate actions with evil or wickedness, one needs to judge the intent.

 

There are no intentions lying in the gust of an arrow.

 

As it propelled you throughout the decades, the Bronzer might have stilled your heart, but not your resolve. You know you could never stop yourself, even if you tried. Now that the string has been released, there is nothing but the fletching. You feel yourself waver, soul rocking back and forth inside you as a boat by the pier, moving effortlessly through the days to come.

 

The con is simple and the details are familiar as events unfold before your eyes. Every step brings you closer to that one day that will tip the scales, to the bull’s eye you have promised yourself to, more than a lifetime ago. You waited a hundred years for the end of the world to come, and when it does, that is when you finally realise that something is off.

 

Your aiming was all wrong, but you are an arrow, simple, straightforward; lacking the strength to change the trajectory of your destructive path. Despite everything, you cannot curve the angle, cannot slow the pace. It is so very late, and you are so very sharp.

 

You were doomed from the moment you were shot.

 

No matter what you do, sooner or later, you will crash in Myka Bering's heart.


End file.
